Forty Thousand Brothers
by Lily Michelle
Summary: Ron and Harry are at Hermione's pseudo-funeral. How much grief is too much? And who loves Hermione more? Complete one shot fic RWHG


Forty Thousand Brothers  
  
Disclaimer: If I owned this, all I would need would be Orlando Bloom  
to make my life complete. Oh, how I wish my life were complete.  
  
Author's Note: I haven't died if that's what some of you think. It's  
just that I've started university and it's a bit much at once. I'm  
really busy so I haven't had much time to type my stories. I'm  
working on the time management thing so that I will have time.  
Anywho, I know I haven't updated Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder  
in a while (some people have asked), but it's just that I've had a  
loss of inspiration. As soon as my muse comes back, I'll put out a  
new chapter. I've got so many stories going it's hard to stay  
inspired. I mean you have no idea how many I still have to type and  
put up. Okay, I'm going off on a tangent. Sorry. Here's my new  
thing. Tell me if it should be continued and I might try my hand at  
thinking up a story for it. As of yet, it's a one shot deal. It's  
based on one of my favourite lines from Hamlet: "Forty thousand  
brothers could not, with all their quantity of love, make up my sum."  
We watched Kenneth Brannagh as Hamlet in English class last year and I  
was moved. You should really watch it. At that point I really  
believed that Hamlet (Brannagh) loved Ophelia (Kate Winslet). I've  
changed the line a bit to make it more like something they'd actually  
say but the emotion is the same. Enjoy  
  
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."  
The priest read the service and Ron bit back tears. Hermione was gone and it was his fault. He knew that the coffin in front of him was empty except for the keepsakes her friends and family had put in it. But that was only because they couldn't find her body. Ron half wished the body was here. It might offer some closure for him, cliché as that sounds. His other half wished she'd just show up and tell them all they'd made a horrible mistake. That would definitely be the preferred scenario; this half hope was killing him. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do to change anything.  
As the coffin started going down, Harry jumped forward from his place two seats down from Ron.  
"Wait!" he yelled. "Don't lower it yet! She can't be gone."  
He threw himself forward and knelt at the foot of the coffin. Ron felt himself growing angry. What right did Harry have to make such a scene? It was Hermione's funeral. Harry shouldn't be ruining it. Ron's anger rose and rose until he couldn't hold it in anymore.  
"Honestly, Harry," Ron said bitterly and loudly. "That's a bit overdramatic, don't you think?"  
Harry's head snapped around to face the redhead. Harry's face went red with rage.  
"What?" he bellowed. "Of course it's not overdramatic. How can you say that? She was like my sister! Now she's gone! And it's your fault!" he finished.  
Fred and George saw the murderous look in Ron's eyes and grabbed his arms just as he lunged for Harry.  
"I loved Hermione," he yelled angrily. "Forty thousand brothers with all their love could not make up my sum!"  
Fred and George continued to hold back Ron as he strained against them. He kept yelling at Harry as tears ran down his face.  
"You think you loved her more than me? You think that a piece of me didn't die? You think that I'm not slowly dying inside knowing she's gone and it's my fault?" He was starting to get hysterical. "You think that I'm not an empty shell because my other half, my better half, is gone? You think that I wouldn't throw myself at the mercy of Voldemort if it would bring her back?"  
Almost the whole assembly cringed at the Dark Lord's name. Harry looked at Ron, shocked at his intensity.  
"You.you called him by his name," he said quietly.  
"Of course I did," Ron spat. "What's the point in being afraid of him? He's already taken the only thing that made my life worth anything." Ron's words caught in his throat as a new wave of tears came. "And I let him," he muttered. "I let him take her."  
Silent sobs wracked his body and his knees gave out. He crumpled to the floor and stayed there, on his knees with his upper body hunched so far over his face almost touched his knees. He stayed like that and cried. Everyone was transfixed. No one knew what to do when encountered by all this emotion.  
They all stayed like that for a long time, a black haired man kneeling at the foot of a coffin, a red haired man silently crying a few feet away and a brown haired know-it-all's friends and family standing around watching.  
  
Author's Note Two: So what didja think? Good? Bad? Ugly? I don't  
know. I'm not a bloody mind reader, to quote Ron. Here's an idea;  
tell me what you think in a review! But I bet you already knew that  
didn't you? Of course you did, because you are an extremely  
intelligent audience. (Nothing like shameless flattery to get more  
reviews). So yeah, review and tell me what you think and if you want  
me to try to continue this further. However, I must warn you stories  
where everyone thinks Hermione's dead only to have her come back are  
grossly overdone, and I would never kill Hermione so I'm not sure if  
I'll do one unless it's quite good. If you really want I'll try to  
think of a good one though. 


End file.
